


Grave side visits

by androgynousclintbarton



Category: Naruto
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 15:51:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgynousclintbarton/pseuds/androgynousclintbarton
Summary: Kakashi has a tradition whenever someone dies. A tradition of visiting his fathers grave, and every time someone finds him.





	Grave side visits

Rain pounded down on his head, Soaking his hair and cloths. He had searched the entire village for Kakashi, worried when he had gone to the Hatake home to find the child was gone. He had asked around, but no one knew where the boy was. No one even seemed to care.

He knew the village didn’t care about others, they never had. Why would that change now? Still, it annoyed him. This was a 6-year-old boy who’s father had just committed suicide. Why was no one worried? Why was he the only one looking?

He stopped beside the bushes, looking out towards the hidden spot where Kakashi had convinced Minato to help him bury his father. No one else had been willing to do anything. He had already heard all the judgements, all the harsh words. No one cared about how Sakumo’s son was handling what had happened earlier that week, they only cared to bad mouth a man shamed into committing suicide.

The gravestone was small, Sakumo’s name written in stone with jagged words. There was no memorial, no kind words. Just his name. He imagined it was what his own grave would look like one day, another failure of the leaf village. Another forgotten shinobi.

Kakashi was barely visible, but he could see the silver of his hair peeking out from under a small blanket. He could only imagine what the child was going through. What seeing his fathers’ body had done to him? What it had been like having to listen to people bad mouth Sakumo, even after his death.

He stepped up to the boy’s side cautiously, not wanting to spoke him. Even at 6-years-old, Kakashi could beat the crap out of him. He checked the boy’s pulse first, his worry for the child’s health still flaring up. He had been on a mission when it had all happened, but as soon as he got home, he had gone out to find Kakashi. No one should be alone after such loss.

He was just glad he had been able to get Gai to bed before he left the house.

“Come on.” He carefully wedged his hands under the child’s body, nudging him with his fingers until he finally rolled over into his arm, still sound asleep and shivering as the rain continued to fall on them. Taking him to his father’s home wasn’t an option, Kakashi would likely wake up and flee as soon as he realized where he was.

He’d have to give up his bed for the night, but that wasn’t a problem. Kakashi would sleep better in a warm bed, and they could visit Sakumo in the morning. He could say his own goodbyes to his friend, the friend he never got to see off. The friend he never thought would end up in a lone grave, far away from all the others.

The friend whose son he had promised to protect if anything ever happened.

He looked over at the grave once more, holding Kakashi close to his chest as the boy shivered in his arms. “We’ll be back.” A soft promise before he headed back towards his own house.

* * *

Minato had searched franticlly through the entire village, hoping to find any sign of Kakashi after the funeral had finished.

So far, he had found nothing. Some days he wondered how Kakashi had become so good at hiding, but he didn’t really need an answer for that. Kakashi was a loner, he didn’t like being around people. The funeral had probably been hard on him for multiple reasons, not just because it was a reminder of Obito’s death. A reminder of a failure Kakashi still held himself responsible for, no matter what Minato, Kushina and Rin told him.

The funeral had also been loud afterwards, with so many people talking and telling stories of those that they had lost. It must have been over whelming for Kakashi. He had always been so sensitive to noise.

“Father…” His head snapped up. That was Kakashi’s voice, But he wasn’t anywhere near the graves. He was in a secluded part of the village. A part where no one was buried.

No one except Sakumo.

He kicked himself mentally. He should have remembered to check Sakumo’s grave, he had been the one to help Kakashi bury his father. The only one who had been willing to help after the man’s disgrace.

It was a small walk towards the area where he remembered burying the other Shinobi, and as soon as he walked past the few bushes hiding the small grave from sight, he could see where Kakashi had sat himself down in front of the grave.

His heart ached when he saw the pre-teen sitting on his knees in front of the grave, his hands curled painfully into the fabric of his pants and his head bowed in front of the gravestone. How long had he been sitting there while Minato searched for him?

“I’m sorry…” The words are soft, but Minato can hear the hurt in them. A hurt he hadn’t hurt since the day Kakashi had run up to him in the middle of the village and begged him, a man who he had never met, to help him bury his father. To help him at least give his father something, anything for a grave. “I’m sorry I was angry, I’m sorry…”

He was by Kakashi’s side in an instant, catching him in his arms as he curled forward. Kakashi didn’t bother to look up at him, or to say anything. He seemed to know who it was though, because he instantly relaxed into his sensei’s arms.

“It’s ok…” He knows the words mean little to Kakashi, nothing is ok. Nothing had been ok since a six-year-old had been forced to bury his own father. Nothing would ever be ok again, but for now, for just one moment, he could pretend.

* * *

He laid beside his father’s grave, unable to say anything as his eyes focused on the words carved out in stone. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to tell a hero, a man who died believing he was doing the right thing by forgoing his mission and saving his friends?

How could he ever hope to match up to his father, when he was nothing more than a friend killer. A man who had seen his own hand go through his teammate, who had felt the sticky blood of someone he was meant to protect. Someone he was supposed to keep safe.

Was there anything he could say? Any way he could apologize for failing his friends and father like this?

“Go away…” He hadn’t heard movement behind him, but he knew that Gai was standing there ready to comfort him. He didn’t deserve comforting though. He didn’t deserve attention, or love.

He didn’t deserve anything.

“You know I’m not leaving.” It’s a fact, Gai never listened to him when he told him to leave. When he said he wanted to be alone. Gai had always been there by his side, pushing him for competitions and trying his best to cheer him up when he noticed that he was down.

He couldn’t cheer up though. How was he supposed to when he could still feel the blood on his hands? How was he ever supposed to believe he was worthy of anyone’s attention when he had been the one to murder Rin?

Still, he didn’t bother to argue. There was no point. He simply kept his eyes on the gravestone and stayed silent, listening to the soft footsteps behind him as Gai found his spot and sat down, intent on waiting for his friend to tell him when they were going to leave.

They sat in silence for a while, neither of them saying anything. Neither of them being able to come up with the right words to say.

Gai, as always, was the first to break the silence.

“You don’t owe him an apology.” He closed his eyes. Gai was wrong, he was always wrong. He owed his father so much, he had been so stupid. So careless. How could he not owe him an apology? “You know he wouldn’t be angry with you.”

“He should be!” He finally snapped, curling up into himself and bringing a hand up into his hair. It hurt, it always hurt. Why couldn’t he stop hurting for just a bit? Why did the universe insist on reopening his wound? On keeping the pain fresh and new. “I killed her! I killed my teammate and he should hate me! He should hate everything I am, everything I’ve become!”

He didn’t bother to pull away when Gai reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t. Gai was the only one other than Minato Sensei who didn’t believe the rumors. Who didn’t call him ‘cold blooded Kakashi’.

He wasn’t cold blooded; his heart wasn’t made of stone. Every fiber in his body felt like it was on fire and he hurt constantly, but he was a shinobi. He had to act like he was alright, like nothing affected him.

He hated it.

“He’d never hate you.” The words are soft, and for the first time in days he wants nothing more than to curl up into someone and cry. To stop acting like the tough Shinobi, to stop being the Cold-blooded killer everyone thought he was.

He couldn’t move though; it hurts to much. Everything hurt too much.

His eyes focused on the gravestone once more, tracing over the words that he had carved into it with his own weapon. The name he had always thought he would see a memorial stone along with others. The name of a hero.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there; he had lost track of time long ago. All he remembered was the moment that Gai had finally gotten to his feet and picked Kakashi up in his arms. He made no protests, there was no point. If Gai had decided it was time for them to go home, he didn’t get a say in the matter.

He’d visit again tomorrow. Maybe then he could finally apologize.

Maybe then he could find a way to make it up to his father.

* * *

The bushes Rustled, signaling Kakashi’s arrival. Gai looked over at his friend from the gravestone, a soft smile on his face when he saw the Jonin standing there in silence. He knew he would come here; he always did.

“Waiting for me?” Kakashi’s voice is weak, sorrow dripping through his words as he stood there with his hands by his side and sadness in his eyes.

“Always” Gai smiled up at him, watching as he slowly made his way over to his side and took a seat beside him. His eyes immediately searched out the name on the gravestone, reading it repeatedly as his entire body slouched.

“When does it stop?” He had never heard Kakashi ask anyone that question before, maybe because he had always thought he needed to be the strong shinobi. The unbendable and unbreakable.

Slowly, their eyes met, and Gai could see the pain deep inside. Kakashi was tired, he had been for years. He was tired of the pain, tired of the loss. Even Gai had to wonder some days how much more the universe planned on taking from the other man. Hadn’t he lost enough already?

“I don’t know.” It’s a poor answer, but the only one he can come up with. He had no idea when any of it ended. The war, the death, the struggles. There was no foreseeable future without any of it, but he knew Kakashi had lost more than enough already. He didn’t need to go through this pain anymore. “but I do know one thing.”

“And what’s that?” he smiled his usual smile and reached out to slap Kakashi in the shoulder.

“I know that your father would be proud” He said softly “that he’d be glad you stayed on your path after everything, that you continued to fight for the leaf.”

Kakashi instinctively reached up to touch the symbol on his head band “I don’t fight for the leaf.” A soft admission, something he likely wouldn’t dare to tell anyone else. If he did, he’d be shamed just as his father had been.

“Well,” Gai thought about it for a moment “then you have to fight for something. If you lost all purpose you would have…” he choked on the words. He never wanted to think about attending Kakashi’s funeral. Of having to bury his best friend and say goodbye.

The thought made him ill.

“I fight for him.” He looked back over at the other man, smiling when he noticed that Kakashi had turned his attention back to the gravestone in front of them “I fight for the village he had wanted to protect, for the ideals he wanted to nourish and grow.”

“An honourable reason to fight” he smiled, his breath catching in his lungs when Kakashi looked back over at him.

“And you…” the words are soft, almost too soft. If Gai hadn’t been paying attention he might have missed them entirely.

“You…” he blinked, shocked by Kakashi’s confession. “For me?”

“You and Minato Sensai were the only one’s who cared.” It’s not far from the truth, but Gai is sure he could list others who have shown their worry and care for Kakashi over the years. “You’re the only one’s who stayed with me no matter what, who tried to help me. I fight for my father’s ideal Village, and I fight for the village that will one day look at you and see the amazing ninja you are.”

He reached out slowly, laying a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder for comfort and grunting when the other Ninja finally collapsed into him. He didn’t say anything, wrapping his arms around the other man even as he felt the tears staining his spandex. There was nothing to say, not right now at least.


End file.
